I want to look at your face when you let your grin slip,
When you let the mischief go, and sink, serious, into your skin,
The skin you cut
The skin you hated.
I want to know what was in your head
The day you tried to die.
What of it still lingers,
Although your scars are lacy and fading,
And you glow with health
Now.
What lingers of the obsessions,
The loathing,
The pain?
I want to know
Because I want to love it out of you like venom.
Dangerous
More dangerous than you could imagine
That I want to show you love.
Perhaps I should be fighting the urge,
Burying it away
Because wanting you is safer
Than wanting to celebrate you.
But I think of what it must have been like for you
The confusion and anguish,
The hatred and the surrender,
And I want to hear every detail of your hell
So that I can help you stay away from it.
I want to steady you when you fall into fear or doubt or shame,
Because you steady me.
I want to give you something,
Is the thing.
And although I don't want to give you everything
It's probably still
A pretty dangerous thing.